Letter Abroad
by Tiffsababe
Summary: Freedom should never be taken for granted. Steph finds letters to her Grandmother, giving her a glimpse back to a time in our country's and her family history.


**Letters Abroad**

 **A/N: May 23rd is Memorial Day, and in honor of those who did not make it back home, I wrote this piece in honor of them. Thank you for the ultimate sacrifice.**

 **SPOV**

The moment I realised my mother was asking me to help her go through my grandmother's belongings, I felt as if I was going to cry all over again. Grandma had quietly passed away in her sleep a few weeks ago. I'd like to think she went to the giant Clip n' Curl in the sky. Things were somber and quiet around the house after the funeral and yet, even in death, my grandmother was still finding ways to say hi. She had left notes all around the house, tucked into books, taped inside cupboards. The funniest one we've found yet was the one my dad found when he went to replace the batteries in the tv remote. He just gave a quick shake of his head, but thinking no one was looking, he replaced the note inside and afixed the cover as if nothing was wrong.

My mother thought we should go through her papers thinking there might be something that either Valerie or I might want before she and Dad threw out things they didn't want to keep. So here I was, helping my mother search through the attic for the boxes Grandma had kept there for safe keeping. It was in a box of wartime momentos, that I found what I knew I was looking for. Wrapped in a faded red ribbon that was fraying a little on the ends, was a stack of about twenty letters my Grandfather had sent my Grandmother when he was serving in the Marines while in the Pacific theater. I grabbed a quick sip from my water bottle and waved them in the air to show my mother I had found something special, while talking seemed a little difficult with all the flying dust.

"What did you find Stephanie?" My mother, grabbed her dust rag and scooted over to sit on her stool by my spot on a box of old nudie magazines, Dad was hiding from my mother.

"It's the letters Grandpa sent Grandma during the war." I carefully untied the ribbon, freeing the compressed stack. "Look, these are dated. 1943." I handed the stack to my mom as I grabbed the first one and tenderly unfolded it.

 _My dearest Edna,_

 _I can't begin to tell you how much I miss you and our precious, precious little girl. It's unbearably hot here, in_ _nnnnnn_ _. I wish I were at home, but I've heard that things here won't be getting any quieter any time soon. I'm sorry I missed little Helen's birthday, let her know that her Daddy misses her. Malaria has been running rampant around here and I'm hoping it doesn't hit me. Hawkins and Williams were taken to the hopital tent a few days ago, haven't heard anything from them since._

 _It wasn't until we were parted that I realised how much I took our relationship for granted. I fall asleep at night thinking of your sweet smile, and wake in the morning wondering when the next time I kiss you will be. Just know you will always be in my heart and I always carry your picture with me where ever I go. Each day before we head out to flush out the enemy from their hideouts, I kiss your picture. I'd like to think it brings me good luck._

 _Thinking of you every day,_

 _Harry_

I had tears falling unheaded down my face, as did my mother. I had no idea that my grandparents were so in love. I mean I knew that they loved each other, but not this deeply.

"I had no idea." My mother sniffled as she lovingly refolded the letter, setting it aside to open the next one.

 _My loving Edna,_

 _I can't begin to tell you how much I miss you and our precious, precious little girl. It's not so bad these days here in_ _nnnnnn_ _, the rains have started and it finally allows us not to drink from coconuts constantly to keep hydrated. The fighting is slowing a little, I'm hoping that the enemy just turns tail and runs. But I don't think that's going to happen. I finally heard about Williams and Hawkins. Williams is being sent stateside because the Malaria messed him up too badly. I hate to say, but Hawkins didn't make it. He died the day I wrote you last. His things were sent off to his wife in DesMoine yesterday. I'm still healthy._

 _I miss you so badly. Sometimes, I daydream of spending a Sunday afternoon with you and Helen, having a picnic at the little lake I took you to when were dating. Other times, I wake up from dreams at night, thinking that they are real. Dreams of you in my arms. Dreams of us spending time together. Once I realise it's not real, I almost cry. I miss your soft lips and your gentle touches. I miss being able to hold you when you cry. I miss giving you a sweet kiss when I get home from the steel mill. Just know I think about you everyday and every night. My sweet, sweet Edna._

 _Missing you more than I could ever imagine,_

 _Harry_

By this time, both my mother and I are bawling, unable to continue our exploration of the letters. My dad finally found us as we finished the second letter, giving us odd looks. "What in blue blazes is going on?"

"Grand... Grandpa Harry's l..l..letters to Grandma. From the *hic* war." His face softened and he held out his hand to my mother.

"Let's take these down to the living room. You'll be more comfortable there and there's tissues down there." I nodded and assisted Daddy in getting my mom down the rickety ladder.

My father picked up the small stack of letters and picked one out of the stack about midway down. In his smooth baritone he began to read out loud.

 _My sweet, sweet angel, Edna,_

 _I can't begin to tell you how much I miss you and our precious, precious little girl. Things are as bad as I've ever seen them. We've lost more than half my platoon in the last few days. The fighting has been fierce on both sides. I feel like such a monster, Edna. I killed a man today! I shot him as he tried to reload his rifle. He managed to get pretty close to our position and I saw him sticking out from behind a tree a little. I waited until he moved to the right a little, aimed and shot him right through the heart. You must think horribly of me. I'm a monster, an unfeeling shell of a man. I'm not sure how you could ever love someone like me._

 _I can only hope you and Helen are faring well in Trenton. I was thinking of taking Helen on a camping trip when I return, she always did have fun time getting dirty. Maybe we could all take a week together and spend it away from everyone and everything. I need the peace and quiet after all the things I've seen here. I miss you so dearly. I began sketching both of you from memory. I'm afraid that with how fast Helen is growing, I'm sure my memory doesn't do her justice. But, it will have to do, until I can see her again in person. Stay safe and know that I love you dearly, my Edna._

 _Yours always,_

 _Harry_

My father, uncharacteristiclly seemed choked up at the content of the last letter. He hung his head for a few moments before, sniffling and refolding the letter. "I never knew Harry went through that. He never said he saw action when he was overseas."

My mom nodded and smoothed at a nonexistant wrinkle in her apron. "He wouldn't talk about it. Mother always warned me never to bring it up or to ask him about it. It was a subject one did not discuss with their father."

My dad nodded before rising to his feet. "I'll be right back." He walked away, sniffling slightly. Mom and I sat in silence, unsure of what to say. My dad returned a few minutes later carrying a small stack of letters tied with a thin green string. My mother's eyes watered all over again when she saw what he was carrying.

"Your letters, Frank. I didn't think you knew I saved them." She gave him a warm smile, as he sat next to her on the couch. "I remember waiting by the postbox everyday waiting for the mailman. He used to whistle as he came down the street. Do you remember that Frank?" He nodded and she continued, as my father wrapped his arm around my mom's shoulders, drawing her close. She unwrapped the letters and pulled the first one out, opening it to read. Feeling as if I was intruding on their time together, I slowly and quietly backed out of the room, after grabbing the stack of Grandpa's letters. I left the house, still teary eyed and a little blown away at the things my grandpa had wrote about.

That night, after I had finished a meatball sub from Pino's, I felt as if I could read another letter from Grandpa Harry. I had just snuggled down into my armchair covered in a crocheted afghan my Grandma had made years ago, when the sound of my locks tumbling clued me into the fact I was about to receive a visitor. When I heard the familiar voice, I cringed, my teeth grinding together. "Cupcake?"

"What do you want Morelli?" I gave him the dirtiest glare I could muster.

"Why are you reading old letters? Probably nothing but trash. Why isn't the Ranger's game on. Look, I brought pizza and beer." He held up a medium pie from a greasy joint on Stark Street and a warm six pack of crap beer.

"I suggest you stop in your tracks, put your ass in reverse and go back out the way you came in." I set the letters down on the coffee table, just before he threw the box of greasy pizza down in the same spot. The cryof indignation and horror filled the air, when I realised his nasty pizza was ruining a piece of my family history. I snatched the letters out from the cardboard, using the hem of my sweatshirt to wipe away the grease spots now marring the aged papers. "You asswipe! That's it! Get the hell out of my house! Get the hell out of my life!" I flung the box of gross pizza at him, hitting him square in the face. Score one for Plum. When I picked up the six pack, he made to hide behind the door of my refrigerator. "I don't think so! GET OUT!"

"I believe the lady asked you to get out." A more than welcome voice sounded from the front doorway. I turned to see Ranger, Tank and a few of the guys giving Joe the death stare.

"Manoso and Goons. What a surprise! Come to rescue the damsel in distress? Well stuff it. I was here first, and we were just having..." Before he could finish that thought, I beaned him right upside his head with one of the beers. It knocked his ass loopy. When the second one hit him, he was down for the count. Make that numbers two and three for Plum.

"Nice arm, Babygirl." Tank chuckled as he kicked Joe none too gently to check if he was still breathing. Yeah, he was still alive. Damn.

"Thanks. You guys came at the wrong time, though. You should have waited until I was done. I was just getting to the good part."

"Throwing him out?" Ranger asked with a 200-watt smile. "I always love that part."

"Of course you would, Batman. I took a play from your playbook. I used what I had handy to defend myself." I was pretty proud of myself.

"Babe." Ranger eyed the four remaining beers, raising just one of his eyebrows. Damn, I wish I could learn to do that!

"What? They're heavy and I can really chuck one across the room if I need to." I pointed to Joe. "See, I really needed to." The guys all guffawed as Joe began to come around. "Shit. Can I stun him so one of you guys can dump him out in the dumpster?"

Hal handed over his stun gun, despite the looks from the others. "What? She's not going to use it on me this time. I'd give my left nut to get a chance to cram his ass into that dumpster any other day." I giggled before sliding the letter onto the kitchen table with the others, grabbing the stun gun and standing over Joe.

As he was still loopy and out of it, I unzipped his fly, tugging his pants down just enough to bare his *ahem* assets. "Thanks for your service to our country." With a sneer and a manical laugh, I tased him in his family jewels. I could hear the guys first chuckle at me baring Joe and then the groans as I tased him. "That's for not writing me when you were in the Navy, you Asshole. I hope you rot in hell." Hal hoisted Joe over his shoulder and headed out of the apartment, whistling a little tune.

"Now Babe, what's got you in such a tizzy?" Did Batman just really say 'tizzy'? "Babe."

"Outloud?" At his nod, I giggled before the smile dropped from my face, my eyes began to tear up and I couldn't help the sniffles. "He ruined a letter from my Grandpa to my Grandma. when he was overseas during the war." The looks on their faces when they suddenly realised what I was talking about were ones of understanding and pity. "He set his greasy pizza on one of the letters and called the letters trash. I had to do it."

Tank nodded in complete agreement. "That's right Babygirl. In defense of self and your property. I'd buy it. Especially after what the Jackass did to your letters."

Ranger gave a small sigh, before wrapping me in his arms, setting the warm beer on top of my refrgerator. "I'm sorry about the letters Babe. Are they okay?"

Vince held them up. "I think they'll be okay. Hey Bomber, if you want, I have the stuff the professionals use to preserve paper at the lab. You want to clean them up and get them preserved for your family?" I was floored by his offer.

"Thank you Vince? But, why?" I was baffled as to why he would offer such a tedious thing.

"I lost the letters my Great-Great-Great Gandfather wrote his wife during the Civil War to a fire. I will never be able to get them back and I will never forgive myself for letting them go like that. I don't want someone else's history to be lost. My mom has all the letter I sent home stuffed into a small wooden box. She says she's going to save them so that my grandkids and maybe my great-grandkids can read them and see what it was like during the war in Afganistan and Iraq."

"Babe. It's nice to see that families cherish the little things when we go off to war. I know my Abuela and Madre both saved their letters." He sighed and settled me onto his lap as he sat on the couch. "Babe, the letters that my cousin wrote my Aunt Ella, are tucked in a momento box under my Aunt's bed. Javi didn't make it Babe. He was hit by a roadside IED, outside of Tikrit just after US forces took it the first time. It hit her pretty hard. It took her a long while to come back to herself. She will never part with those letter because it represents the thoughts and feelings of her loved one during a time of war. She will always be able to read those words of love and appreciation for our freedoms."

"Bomber, my Momma has all my letters, plus the letters from my Pa." Hal stated from his position in the doorway. "I sent her some pretty heavy stuff, but she took it in stride and just loved me more for it."

"Do you want to read another one?" Vince was holding up the pile, after appraising them for damage. "I have the last one here, if you want to." He held out the yellowed, dingy piece of paper, with reverence. A slow nod made him smile. Opening it, he asked, "May I?"

"Please. I always cry."

 _Dear sweet Edna,_

 _Joy oh Joy! I just received word I am coming home! I am being sent back from where I've been stationed for the last two months. I've been given my papers. By the time you read this, I will more than likely be almost home. I can't wait to hold you in my arms. I love you, My Darling. My heart sings at the thought of seeing your smiling face once again. I can't wait to see our precious, precious girl. My how she must have grown. I left when she was nothing but a few months old, and now, she must be almost three. I want to see you on the platform when I get off the train. The Marines should send you a notice of when and where I'll be, when I come home._

 _My Darling! I can't wait. The time until then will drag and I will think of how much I love you. Of how dearly I cherish you. And of how much I want to spend the rest of my days with you._

 _The war is over! The war is over!_

 _Your dearest and most loving husband,_

 _Harry_

The name rolled off of Vince's lips making me shiver. It was surreal hearing my Grandpa's words. It was humbling. It was my family history.

"Babe." I was a sobbing mess by this point, completely unable to stop. The guys all looked to one another, before Tank pulled me off of Ranger's lap, wrapping me in his massive arms.

"Babygirl. It's alright. You should be very proud of your Grandad. He survived and made it home." He whispered into my ear, as Ranger held my hand rubbing it gently.

"Tha... that's... that's not why..." I sobbed into his left pectoral muscle.

"Why are you cryin' then Bomber?" Hal asked, his face full of confusion as to why I was crying buckets.

"What about the... men who didn't make it home?" I wailed, as understanding dawned on the guys.

A loud sigh accompanied Vince's hand rubbing over his face. "Bomber, Honey..." He seemed a little unsure of how to continue. "Look, when we signed up, we did so knowing full well that we might never make it home. Your Grandad, by the time he served, they were almost always drafted. So, they didn't have the choice we had. But, they knew the risks. They knew how dangerous their life was. They knew they had a chance they might never go home. Even though it was dangerous, they knew they needed to fight. They needed to fight against the danger that the Axis powers posed."

Tank picked up where Vince left off. "Babygirl. Freedom is never free. There is always a steep price to pay."

"Blood, sweat and tears." Hal murmured from his post leaning against my kitchen cabinets. "Mostly blood." He quickly closed the space between us, to kneel down to look me in my tear filled eyes. "I lost a lost of great buddies since we joined up. And I will never forget them. They sacrificed themselves, their futures, to make sure that we had a safe place to live."

"Babe." Ranger pulled out his phone and flipped it around for me to see what he had on the screen. I was shaken to my core, when I realised what it was I was looking at. There on his phone was a simple photo. On a background of flawless deep green grass, were white marble headstones as far as the eye could see. "This is Arlington National Cemetery. I have a program that sends me a copy of this photo every couple of weeks. I look at this photo and it reminds me not to take my life for granted. It reminds me that freedom is costly and that at anytime, I could be represented by one of those headstones." My tears once again fell unhindered as he spoke. "Every time I hear or see someone taking their freedoms for granted, it nearly makes me sick." He gently shifted me off of Tank's lap onto his. "That's why, Rangeman has made it a priority to assist certain groups with placing flags at every grave of a service member and installing flags lining the roadways into and out of every local cemeteries. But year-round we send a rotating group of guys to serve as honor guard for the cemeteries when the local honor guards are unable to. It's the least we can do." His voice hitched for a slpit second before he finished. "I want to make sure they were remembered for their sacrifices. I want others to see and remember why they died. But most of all, I don't want their lives to be lost in vain."

I nodded, clearly touched. "No! Their lives meant something... freedom."

 **A/N: Okay people... I know it's midnight on the east coast when I post this, but I had to finish it. I've been working on this story for the last few years, but didn't have the right mindset to finish it until now. It was inspired by hearing about a letter a friend of mine found in her Grandmom's attic after cleaning it out one summer. It was from her Grandad to her Grandmom, when he was stationed in the Pacific theater during WWII. It told nothing of the horrors he was experiencing, but was full of love and longing for his wife and family left behind at home. Sadly, her Grandad never made it home. He was hit by a particularly bad strain of malaria, making him very sick. Even though he was ill, he was compelled to fight against a surprise attack by a Japanese force on his encampment. I'm sad to say, almost every man in his group was slaughtered. My friend, told me, that the day the telegram arrived, notifying her Grandmom of his death, she collapsed, clutching her chest. She nearly died from a heartattack brought on by the shock of the news of her husband. I was told, she never remarried. And on her deathbed, she whispered the name of her husband before she passed. Both my friend and I were bawling by the time she finished the story. So, in honor of her Grandad and those who never made it home. I salute you and will never forget. Thank you for your service and thank you for your sacrifice.**

 **-Tiff**


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